Confrontations
by blurrygraylines
Summary: I wake up to the smell of medicine and disinfectant. It takes me a few moments to place where I am, compared to the old instantaneous senses. I try to sit up, before a pain in my head decides that's a bad idea. I've been getting pains like that a lot. Dehydration. Malnutrition. Depression. Self-harm. A huge list for an eighteen year old, I know. Rated K plus


**AN: Kind of depressing, but lately I find that I write depressing stories better than upbeat or happy ones. Or at least sometimes. I was just in the mood for some Dick-bashing, Anyway, enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I own a Red Hood hat, Batman shirt, Nightwing shirt, Nightwing comics, Flash comics, Batman comics, and Robin socks. Unfortunately not DC.**

Confrontations

Tim could tell something was wrong. Something was definitely wrong. Wrong with Dick. It was getting unnerving. The Dick Tim knew was upbeat, with a constant quirk of his lips, always amused at something. This Dick was different. This Dick almost never smiled, was always grim, never ate anything. Tim and Babs were getting seriously worried. Since he realized that Dick was not eating, Tim had subtly tried to make Dick realize he wasn't taking care of himself.

Tim's first clue of Dick's spiralling eating habits was the half-eaten sandwiches and other food items lying around the Cave. He had talked to Babs to see if she had noticed, and she had. It was pretty obvious, and Tim had other concerned members of the team ask him about it. Tim had always assured them that everything was fine, but with each assurance, the pit in Tim's stomach grew bigger.

Tim had also noticed that Dick was more withdrawn, not talking to anybody at the Cave. Nightwing also looked like he lost weight, and he didn't participate in training as much. Tim narrowed it down to stress. Bruce was away in space for the trial so Dick took up the Batman mantle. Batman was so different from Nightwing, and it had to be stressing Dick out. On top of patrolling Gotham every night, Dick also patrolled Bludhaven six days a week, did missions for the League, and took care of his duties as the leader of the Team. Dick had a lot on his plate with all that, and still had to worry about the invasion threat from the Reach.

It wasn't just at the Cave that Dick didn't eat or wasn't his normal cheerful self. Rather than worry about Kaldur's betrayal and Artemis's death, Dick immersed himself in work. He hardly left the Batcave, and when he did, he went back to the penthouse and sulked.

Tim was determined to help Dick, even if it meant confronting him in front of the entire team. It seemed that making it a big show was the only option left to get it through to Tim's big brother.

0o0

Plan ready for execution. Nightwing was in the kitchen, sitting on a barstool staring at the computer. He had been sitting on that same barstool for the past four hours. And Tim had been around the corner watching (read: spying) for the past four hours. It was almost 11:00, time for the Team to meet for training. They had decided to convene in the kitchen because it seemed like everyone always hung out in the kitchen, it was pointless to change an already working spot.

Tim watched as the zetas went off for the first person. He quickly approached Nightwing, protein bar in hand.

"Hey Nightwing, you should probably eat something before we train. Get your strength up, y'know?" Tim asked Nightwing, holding out the protein bar.

"No thanks," Nightwing declined, "I'm good," Blue Beetle, Impulse, Batgirl, and Wonder Girl had arrived and were curiously watching Nightwing and Robin.

"Come on, Nightwing. You haven't eaten anything all day. You forget to eat again?" Tim insisted.

Nightwing waved Robin off. "I don't need anything, Robin. Besides, we should be training," Nightwing made to walk away to the training area, but Robin jumped in front of him.

"Nightwing! You need to eat! I haven't seen you eat anything all day!" Robin protested.

"It's fine, Robin. Now, training!" Nightwing was getting annoyed. By now most of the team had gathered around the kitchen and had joined in on watching the two brothers argue.

"No, Nightwing. It's not fine! Don't think I haven't noticed! You never eat anymore, you work yourself to death, you never sleep! You're not the Nightwing I know," Robin cried. Nightwing just turned away and started walking to the training area. The whole team was there, and all of them turned to follow him. TIm narrowed his eyes. He could see Nightwing limping and could see that he was unstable. Robin watched Nightwing walk for a second before making up his mind. Robin ran at Nightwing and jumped onto his back, knocking him over.

Nightwing fell harshly to the ground. The Team looked at Robin in shock. Robin ignored them and pinned Nightwing to the ground. Nightwing looked up at Robin, surprised.

"Robin! What are you doing!?" Nightwing struggled vainly to get up, but Robin held him down easily.

"Making sure my brother is okay!" Robin said. Robin wasn't about to give up on his brother, ever. He was family, and family never left anyone behind. Sure, Nightwing had given the Demon Brat the title of Robin over him, but Tim forgave Dick. Dick must have his reasons, and Tim knew Dick would never purposely hurt him. He could never hold a grudge against his cheerful and caring brother. Unfortunately he wasn't, as cheerful these days. But Tim was going to find out why and help him, whatever it took.

Nightwing continued to try to get up, but in no use. Usually Nightwing would have been able to easily throw Robin off, but today he was so weak he couldn't have even thrown Gar off while Gar was in his monkey form. Robin bent down to look Nightwing in the eye, still ignoring the Team.

"Nightwing. Listen to me. You need help. So let me help you," Robin pleaded.

"I don't need help! Get off me!" Nightwing growled, his anger making it harder for Robin to hold on. But Robin held steady.

Robin sighed internally. If Nightwing wasn't going to comply, he would have to go to desperate measures. Robin reached into his utility belt and pulled out a birdarang. He used the birdarang to make a rip on Nightwing's costume at the waist and pull it over his head.

Robin gasped in surprise at Nightwing's torso under his costume. He heard similar gasps from his other teammates. Under Nightwing's costume, he could see long, pale scars and the outline of ribs.

"Nightwing…" Robin trailed off. "What- How… Why? What is this?" Nightwing looked up at him, his angry expression lessening slightly, adding a little bit of fear and tiredness. Then Nightwing's face relaxed and he fell limp.

Tim almost couldn't believe what he was seeing. Tim ignored the scars, pushing the idea of what they could be to the back of his head for the moment. This might be something to let Bruce handle. The Leaguers going to Rimbor had come back a few days ago, as far as he knew, Dick hadn't seen Bruce yet. Probably too busy with cleaning up the damage from the Invasion, explaining things to the Leaguers and the Team. That could have been a part of why he was so malnourished.

"Conner! Help me get 'Wing to the infirmary!" Robin yelled. Conner had become great friends with Nightwing over the years, and didn't hesitate to pick him up and carry him to the Cave's infirmary.

Conner carefully carried Nightwing's unconscious body to the infirmary.

0o0

 **Dick's POV**

I wake up to the smell of medicine and disinfectant. It takes me a few moments to place where I am, compared to the old instantaneous senses.

I try to sit up, before a pain in my head decides that's a bad idea. I've been getting pains like that a lot. Dehydration. Malnutrition. Depression. Self-harm. A huge list for an eighteen year old.

I know it's not healthy, but I have no other option. There's nothing else for me. I betrayed Bruce. I left him, everything that's been happening between me and him is all my fault. Jason hates me. Tim is still upset that I chose Dami over him. Dami thinks I'm not as good as Bruce. That's true. I'll never be as good as Bruce. I'm just a faulty version of Batman. And Bruce is one of the best man I ever knew.

I've had little bouts of depression since my parent's deaths. How could I not? I was only eight when I saw them fall at Tony Zucco's hand. I never told Bruce, or Wally, the League, the Team. I've always been a good actor, and with my training I only got better. I hid it for years, without giving any signs that I wasn't okay in the head. Still hiding it.

Dami is now training to be Robin, while Tim is the current one. Tim decided that he was only going to be Robin for a few more months with the Team. Probably until the Reach invasion is over, if it'll end. Or else Tim will probably never get the chance to make his own identity, find his own place out if Bruce's shadow. Like I did.

Tim said he was planning to go to the Titans in Jump City, due to Damian becoming Robin. There's a new bunch of them since I left, my Titans all found other things to do. He'll take on his own identity, and join the Titans. Get out of Bruce's shadow, make his own mark in the world. Titans Tower is the perfect place to do that. They have no connection to the League whatsoever, and manage Jump City by themselves.

I left the Team a few days after I turned 14. Bruce had been getting on me for a while, but then was the last straw. Bruce tried to fire me after I was shot. I have no clue why Bruce freaked then, I've been shot plenty of times before. Bruce had been increasingly overprotective, and getting on me over every single mistake, no matter how small it was. He wouldn't let me go on patrol most nights, benched me over any type of slip. He gave the Team less and less missions, making the League take every minor spat. I couldn't live like that anymore.

I ran away. I packed my things and disappeared. I never told Bruce, I never told anyone. Took all my most important possessions and locked them in a silver case. I vanished five days after my birthday, leaving no trace behind. I jumped on my bike and rode to one of the most far away cities I could think of. Jump City, California.

I found friends there, and founded a new team. My own team, with no connections to the Justice League at all. Starfire, alien refugee from the planet Tamaran, extremely powerful, no experience with Earth at all. Beast Boy, anthropomorphic boy with green skin, former member of the Doom Patrol. Raven, mysterious magic user, possibly from another dimension. Cyborg, half man, half machine, given metal implants to save his life after an accident. And me, Robin, former partner of the Batman, secret identity, murky past that no one touches.

We were the only self-sustaining all-teenager team around, meaning we took care of Jump ourselves, with no adult superheroes to help us or "look after" us. We took on all the villains in Jump City, trying to rid Jump of wrong-doers. It was very different from Gotham. Jump is a friendlier city, similar to Central. Most of the villains were jokes, but surprisingly hard to subdue. Nothing like the Joker, or Two-Face.

We didn't patrol regularly, which took some getting used to. We just watched the news for any hint of trouble, which was about four or five times a week, much less than Gotham. I definitely got more sleep with the Titans, which made crime fighting much easier. I had more people to watch my back, people who weren't constantly judging me for my mistakes. They knew I was human, while they weren't. They just understood things Batman didn't.

But at the same time I was with the Titans, I missed Gotham. I missed the familiar villains, swinging across the rooftops, saving people regularly from petty crime, preventing kids from losing their parents like I did, and most of all the protective shadow that always watched over me. Comforted me, helped me, trained me. To put it simply, I missed my dad. Batman. Bruce.

I was homesick more often then I would like to admit. The homesickness got to me, no matter how hard I tried to keep it out. Whenever I made a mistake, I expected him to be there. Comforting me, teaching me how to correct my mistake. But he wasn't. And it was all my fault.

I threw away Bruce, my career in Gotham, like it never mattered. It was a working relationship, or it could have been if I tried harder to make Bruce understand. Bruce was my savior. I had lost a father the day of the fall, and gained a new one. I loved Bruce, as a father, and a friend. He was always there for me, strong and never wavering. We had something I had never seen before, a special relationship that worked for us, but no else ever understood.

We were the Dynamic Duo, partners in crime (well, partners that fought crime). We were the famous Batman and Robin of Gotham. To the League, we were a mystery. To the world, we were a legend. We could communicate without words, instantly understanding each other without so much as a nod. The Flashes called it Bat-telepathy.

But that all changed. We started fighting. Most of the time, over little things that went away as quickly as they came. The League never noticed it, we were as stoic as ever. The Team never knew, I would never bring it up around them.

Then it started to get bigger. I let Joker stab me, I didn't watch out for myself as much as I should, I was spending too much time with the Team, I was slacking on my training. I had enough of it. After months of being berated for everything, I ran away.

I tried to forget. I tried to forget Bruce, my father. I tried to forget everything we had, everything we could have had. I tried to forget the countless movie nights, stakeouts with snacks and drinks, basketball games, training together.

I never could. I got depressed, knowing that it was my fault I lost my father. After all the fights we had, the things I said, Bruce would never take me back. I started to cut myself when I was fifteen, a year after I joined the Titans. I was busy with them, sorting everything out, making my own mark, I actually did forget.

One day, it hit me. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I had suppressed the feelings for so long, but things like that only stay down for so long. That day was the very first time I cut myself. I said I deserved the pain. I ran away. I fought with Bruce. I almost killed the Titans multiple times. I put them in danger. It was all my fault.

I've been cutting for about three years now. My arms, my legs, my hips are covered in scars. My whole body is covered in scars and marks. They come with the job. Scars, cuts, brands, burns. All over me, all over my body. I used to treat my body as a temple. Now it's a cluster of ruins.

The Titans never knew. They still don't. I can imagine their reactions. Starfire would demand who cut me, and try to destroy them. Beast Boy wouldn't understand what they mean, he would just think it's cool that I have so many scars. Cyborg would know what they mean, and try to help me "get better". Raven would know what they mean, and probably why I do it.

Bruce would be ashamed of me. He wouldn't want a broken son.

Bruce. Alfred. Jason. Tim. Steph. Cass. Damian. Babs. I've only met Jason twice before he died. He was a spunky kid, not taking anything from anyone. He made a good Robin. Then he died. I heard from Wally, who was still in touch with the Team, that Bruce was hit hard. Then a third one came along, Tim. He's a smart one, possibly even a better detective than Bruce. He'll go a long way when he's done with his run as Robin.

I shed my mantle as Robin when Jason became the new Boy Wonder. I was settled with the Titans, a year and a half after I found them. We were just sitting in the living room, lazing around after taking care of Doctor Light. For old times sake, I turned on the Gotham News. The Titans gave me odd looks, but didn't question it. A picture of a little black-haired kid in red, yellow, and green came on the screen. I stared at the screen in surprise. The kid was swinging from a grapple, the picture was a surprisingly good shot. Batman never let pictures get taken of me when I was Robin.

BB asked if the kid was me, but I knew better. The kid had broader shoulders than I did, and his costume was slightly different than mine. I almost thought he was a dumb kid posing as me, until I saw the tip of a black cape peeking out of the edge of the picture. Nope, this kid was the real deal.

I paid more attention to the news lady. There wasn't much about this new Robin, seemed he had only been around for two months at most. Once the segment was done, I went to the computer and looked up everything I could about this new kid.

The first sighting was during a museum robbery, the kid flipping around and taking out Riddler and his men. The kid was a good acrobat, not as good as me, and had been in training for a while, judging from all the different maneuvers and gadgets he used. I looked for a little more, before deciding it wasn't my business. Bruce replaced me, with a better Robin. I did run out on him, so I shouldn't be that upset.

I also decided there couldn't be two Robins. I spent days in my room at Titans Tower, designing a new costume and coming up with a new name. I decided on Nightwing, after the Kryptonian legend Superman told me, back in my Robin days.

The Titans supported my change, they agreed it was time that I became my own person. I liked the change too, but it only reminded me of what I lost. My only connection to Batman was gone. I was no longer a partner, one half to the Dynamic Duo. That was in the past. There was no more Robin. There was only Nightwing. And Bruce was just a figure in my past.

I look up from my thoughts as Tim walks through the door. He looks relieved. Probably because I'm awake. I'm not so relieved. My head definitely wants me unconcious.

"Dick, you're awake!" Tim exclaims. I smile, albeit weakly.

"'Course, Timbo. You know me! Always up an at 'em," I wince after, bringing a hand up to my head.

"Uh, Dick? You don't look alright." Tim says.

"Well, duh. I am in the infirmary," I point out. Tim sighs. Even though his brother was obviously not well, he was still joking around. Even in a hospital bed.

"And I assume you know why you're in said infirmary?" Tim asks. I look down for a moment, shame coursing through me.

"Well… I have been eating less than usual, and-" Tim interrupts me, wanting to get to the point. "You're not well, Dick! You obviously haven't been eating enough, not even "less than usual". You've got cut marks on you! Why do you have cut marks!?" Tim's voice rises in pitch, and becomes desperate on the last sentence.

"Oh… those." I say, looking away from my younger brother's face. "That's nothing, Timbo. Don't worry about it,"

"How could I not worry!? They're obviously self-inflicted, which means… you've cut yourself," Realization, fear, and horror dawns on Tim's face as he finally realizes what the symmetrical cuts on my arms, legs, and hips mean.

I'm a little surprised it took Tim so long to realize that. He's always been the best detective of the Robins, sometimes even rivaling Bruce himself. I expected him to get it faster.

"But… why do you cut yourself?" Tim asks. I wilt a little, this has always been a touchy subject, even though nobody knows about it. I just don't like to acknowledge it very much. So I try to get him to stop asking.

"It's complicated, Tim," I say, with a little edge to my voice. Me calling him Tim should also be a clue. I hardly ever call him Tim, always a nickname like Timmy or Timbo. I can tell he picks up on the subtle clue, but he ignores it.

"So tell me. I've got time," he sits down in one of the chairs in the infirmary, turning his bright blue gaze directly into my eyes. I try to hold his gaze, but I cave after a few seconds.

"Tim…" I plead, "I really can't. Please," Tim looks disappointed, like he doesn't want to let it go.

"Well, if you can't tell me, you could tell someone else?" Tim suggests.

"No! No, Tim, please. Nobody else can know about this," I say desperately. Tim looks at me.

"You do realize you passed out in in front of the whole Team with your scars on display?" Tim asks. I remember that now. I remember Tim bugging me about eating something, getting increasingly annoyed that he wouldn't let it go. Then I remembered what he did to my uniform.

"Hey! What was that!? You mauled my suit! Those things aren't cheap, you know! And why would you do that in front of the entire team!?" I shout. Tim shrinks back for a second, and I start to feel a little bad for yelling at him.

"I had no choice! You were hurting yourself. If the Team were there-" Tim was interrupted as the door to the infirmary flew open and a blur of black and grey rushed into the room.

"Grayson! Don't you ever pull anything like that ever again!" Damian yells, pointing his finger straight at me. I tried to look angry, but I can see the hints of worry and fear in him. Tim looks on apprehensively.

"You told them!?" I shout. "What would ever possess you to do that!?" Tim raises his hands in surrender.

"I didn't say anything! They found out on their own!" Tim defends. I sigh. Of course they did.

"Grayson!" Damian snaps. "What did you do!?" I looked back at my youngest brother, contemplating what I was going to say.

"Dami-" This time I'm interrupted by Jason and Barbara walking through the door. Babs looked worried, while Jason tried to look unfazed, but I could see the uneasiness.

"Hey, guys. What are you doing here?" I ask. Babs glares at me.

"We're here for you, you idiot!" She yells. "What did you do?!" I look down.

"Nothing, Babs. Don't worry about it," I tell her, still not meeting her eyes.

"Excuse me!? Cut marks, dehydration, sleep deprivation, and malnourishment are not 'nothing'!" she shouts, getting up in my face. Jason moves to calm her dows, but she moves away on her own, realizing that it's not the best idea to scream at a bedridden person.

"Wait, cut marks!?" Damian asks. "Why does Grayson have cut marks?" I can't bring myself to look at anyone in the room. Damian looks around, demanding an answer, from anyone.

"The Brat's right. Why does Goldie have cut marks?" Jason asks again.

Tim seems to realize that no one else is going to answer.

"Cut marks are usually made by people with depression-" Damian interrupts him. "Are you saying that Grayson has depression!?"

"Severe, by the looks of it," Tims says resignedly. Surprise comes across everyone's faces. Except me, of course.

"What!?" Damian, Babs, and Jason gasp in unison. "How does he have severe depression?" Babs asks disbelievingly.

Tim sighs. "It could be a multitude of things. Depression is usually caused by many things, not just one. It could be the stress getting to him, his parent's deaths, everything that's been happening lately. The Invasion and whatnot,"

"His parent's deaths?" Damian demands. "But that was years ago,"

"He could have been harbouring it for years, without any of us knowing. Or everything that's been happening with the Reach, all the losses he had to fake, not to mention the real ones," Tim explains.

"But Grayson's a terrible actor. He can't even lie to Superman without breaking," Damian sneers.

I snort in my head. That's what I've let them think. In truth I'm probably the best actor out of all of them. I've lied about not being able to lie. I can lie amazingly well, I've never been caught, even by Alfred. Of course they don't know that. I've been caught in countless fake lies, that were meant to hide the true ones. So that nobody ever finds out the truth in the massive web of lies that I've created. My secrets will be safe should anyone ever attempt to unravel it. I don't even know where all the strings start and end.

"Well obviously he's better than he's let us think, if he's been hiding all this for so long. Some of these scars look to be three years old," Tim retorts. "The depression could have been going on for much longer before he even started cutting,"

"How long has this been going on, Dick?" Babs asks me.

"Well, depends on what you're talking about," I say casually. "The depression, the cutting, malnourishment, attempted suicide?" There I go, admitting it. I've tried to take my own life before. Once I tried to jump off a bridge in Jump City, but a local man stopped me. I managed to conceal my identity and run before he figured out who I was. I've tried to shoot myself, but the gun malfunctioned. I still have a small burn in the shape of a pistol's muzzle on my temple.

Babs' eyes widen in shock at the mention of attempted suicide. Even Tim looks surprised.

"You've tried to kill yourself!?" Babs cries.

"Yep. Twice," I confirm. Tim, Babs, Jason, and Damian just stand in the room, unmoving, trying to process the new information. I feel a twinge of anger their shock. How is it fair that they're just hearing about this, and making it a big deal, when I've been dealing with this for over half my life?

"Grayson…" Damian says quietly. "Why would you do this to yourself?" Damian's tough exterior has melted away, leaving a scared kid in it's place.

"I'll tell you what!" I shout suddenly. "My parents were killed when I was only eight years old! I was sent to a junior delinquents center because all the Gotham orphanages were full! Do you know what they do to little gypsy kids that barely know any english there? Beat them up on a daily basis, that's what! I was just eight, a tiny little runt, there was no way I could fight them all off. I had to stay there for two weeks, enduring constant abuse until Bruce saved me! Then I was moved into a ginormous Manor, a new place without my parents. I had lived with a traveling circus my whole life, it was hard getting used to staying in one place," I pause for a moment to breathe deeply.

"And then I was going to go to school for the first time," I continue, reliving the memories of Gotham Academy in my head, some of the worst times in my life. "I had already learned a lot with the circus so I was moved a grade ahead, technically two since I didn't meet the age requirement. Bruce had just taken me in as his ward, to the kids at GA, I was just a little gypsy runt who had suddenly become the richest kid in Gotham. On top of that, I was only eight years old in a class of ten and eleven year olds. I endured constant ridicule my entire elementary school years. I was bullied by all the bigger kids in my class. I was secretly Robin, but I couldn't do anything about it without revealing my identity. So I had to let them bully me. It only got worse as I went into middle school and high school. In my last year of middle school and my first year of high school, Bruce and I were fighting constantly.

"He wouldn't let me be free. I was benched over every little mistake I made. Bruce gave the Team less missions, making the League take all the missions we could have done. I couldn't take it anymore. I ran away. I didn't tell Bruce. I didn't tell the Team. I ran to Jump City, California and founded the Teen Titans, a freelance group of teenaged crime-fighters. I stayed with them for four years, working with them, with my friends.

"But I felt something was missing. A partner, to always watch my back. Strong, unwavering, always sure. Sure, the Titans were my friends and always had my back, but it wasn't the same. Jump wasn't Gotham and the Titans weren't Batman.

"I missed Bruce. I missed the safe darkness watching over me. I went deeper into my depression. I started cutting. I wouldn't eat. I secluded myself. I became obsessed with my cases. I wouldn't stop.

"And then I left the Titans. I went to Bludhaven and made it my city. I stayed there for a few months. Then Wally came and visited me in 'Haven. He had visited before, and had been part of the Titans for a couple years. This time he came to give me news. He told me the Team was growing, becoming more independant of the League. He also stayed with the Titans for a while before leaving and returning to the Team. I decided it couldn't hurt to go back for a little. I knew that Tim was now Robin, and that Babs was Batgirl. I only met Tim when I rejoined the Team, but I could recognise Babs anywhere.

"Bruce and I skirted around each other, only interacting if necessary. It killed me inside, but I never did anything. I let him avoid me, never look at me when we were in the same room. Kaldur welcomed me back into the Team. It was good to be back with old friends. Then Tula died. The Reach came to Earth. Batman and the missing sixteen hours left for Rimbor. I came up with my plan to find out who the Reach's partner was.

"I spent weeks making the plan, working everything out. The first part was to fake Kaldur's betrayal, giving me an insider in Black Manta's operations and hopefully by extension, the Light. Kaldur supposedly betrayed the Team and League after Tula's death, and everyone believed him. Tula's death really was an accident, but perfectly timed to give Kaldur a reason to defect. His betrayal left me as leader of the Team, making it easier to manipulate factors into the plan.

"Next, I took a squad to the Mars satellite launch. I prearranged with Kaldur, that he try to sabotage it. Then I asked Artemis for a favor. I told her that I needed her to come on the mission with me. I needed to fake her death, to give Kaldur a partner to work with inside Black Manta's operations. Kaldur was to "stab" her with his water constructs, that could easily be manipulated to bend around her, making it look like she was stabbed. I planted fake blood in her uniform, and gave her a sedative to slow her heartbeat. I put some Kryptonite in Conner's pocket, just enough that he wouldn't be able to hear her heartbeat. I took care of the body, bringing her to a warehouse in Bludhaven where I met up with Wally and Kaldur.

"I gave Artemis a glamour charm I got from Zatanna, and a new suit. She was going undercover as Tigress, master assassin, right hand to Kaldur'ahm. The rest of the Team just thought that Artemis was dead. Wally got angry at me for putting Artemis in danger. The rest of the Team blamed me for letting Artemis get killed.

"Next step was for Kaldur to plant an alien bomb in Mt. Justice. I arranged to be in the Cave at the time Kaldur was supposed to break in. I didn't mean for Blue, Impulse, and Beast Boy to be captured, but that also helped Kaldur's standing with the Light and Black Manta. The bomb was meant to destroy the mountain, and prove Kaldur's loyalty. He was also able to pass vital information to me.

"Now with both Kaldur and Artemis with Black Manta, Kaldur's loyalty proven, and Black Manta officially part of the Light, all I had to do was wait. We rescued Blue, Impulse, and Gar, and I figured out that the Reach was working with the Light. M'gann went with us to rescue the boys, and she met Kaldur in a hallway while the rest of us were fighting Black Beetle. She attacked his mind, but she found out that Artemis's death was a ruse. I never meant for anyone to find out about my plan. It was only supposed to be me, Kaldur, and Artemis, plus Wally since he's Artemis's boyfriend. I ended up telling M'gann and L'gann the plan to get them off me.

"I found out that the Reach was working with LexCorp too, so I sent a squad to investigate, and they found Green Beetle. Blue asked Green to "fix" his scarab, but it turned out that Green was corrupted. So Green put Blue's scarab on mode, making him a puppet for the Reach.

"We didn't know that, so when Mongul brought the Warworld to Earth, I sent everyone available to stop him. We did stop Mongul, but Blue betrayed everyone and got them captured. Then he went back to the Reach with Green and Black Beetle. They were rescued by Arsenal, who evaded capture by opening the airlock, and the kids from S.T.A.R. Labs.

"Eventually we freed Blue and Green from the Reach's control, using ancient magic in an underground tomb in Bialya. We infiltrated the Reach and the Light's summit after Kaldur's betrayal was revealed. He filmed the video informing the Reach of the Light's manipulating, revealing that the Light was playing the Reach all along. We won the battle, and I returned leadership of the Team back over to Kaldur.

"And then we realized the Reach had planted a failsafe, the magnetic field disruptors. We split the Team and the League up to neutralize the MFDs, with Lex Luthor's help. We managed to get all but one of them, that one being in the arctic. Flash and Impulse ran up there to take care of it, but they weren't generating enough kinetic energy. Wally ran up to the arctic to help them adding enough kinetic energy to stop the chrysalis. But, he was too slow, and the kinetic energy siphoned of the chrysalis hit him, and he disappeared.

"My best friend died, because of me. I should have seen it, that he would be too slow. Wally's always been slower than Barry, and he never had the highest self-esteem. He used to hide it by being cheerful and annoying, but I could always tell. We all knew he had serious potential, but I think that his low self-esteem was blocking him from it, the potential to be faster than Barry.

"After Wally's death and the Reach Invasion, I decided to take a leave of absence. I took some time to go back to Bludhaven, patrol it like I should have done while I was Batman. And now I'm back, co-leading along with Kaldur. Still avoiding Batman. Still having to Team angry at me. Still depressed. Still broken," I finish my rant/story/explanation.

I'm surprised Tim, Babs, Jason, and Damian have sat quietly and listening this whole time. No interruptions at all. I guess they knew I needed to get it off my chest.

I had already told everyone on the Team, plus the League, the story. I didn't tell them everything, such as the details of my plan. I told them what they needed to know, and nothing more. I tell Tim, Jason, Babs, and Damian because they would understand why I did it. The Team and the League wouldn't. So I didn't tell them.

So I tell my family the whole story, everything I can. They're the only ones, other than those of us who formulated the plan, to know all of it.

They seem to be speechless. That a real accomplishment, my family is never speechless. There's always something to say and someone to say it. This has never happened for as long as I can remember. I enjoy the silence for as long as I can before the inevitable happens, someone starts talking. Tim ends up breaking the silence.

"How could you have hid this from us for so long?" Tim asks, sounding betrayed. "You always tell us how important family is, and how we have to stick together! How we can't keep secrets! But you've been hiding this for years, longer than we've even known you! You tell us to tell each other everything, and yet you've been keeping the one of the biggest secrets possible from all of us! For years!"

"That's enough, Tim," a new voice enters the conversation. We all turn to look towards the man standing in the infirmary doorway. Bruce is standing there.

I shrink back into my cot, trying to make myself as unnoticible as possible. Of course Bruce is Batman, so he obviously noticed.

"All of you, out. Go get some rest, you've been watching Dick for hours," Bruce orders. Tim, Damian, Jason and Babs dutifully file out the door, some choice words being muttered at Bruce (Damian).

Bruce turned to me, his blue eyes boring into my soul. Seeing as it's Bruce, that is entirely possible. I try to look away, but find that my eyes are not responding. Bruce walks over to the side of my bed and sits down on one of the chairs.

"How are you doing, Dick?" Bruce asks. I swallow thickly. How am I supposed to respond to that?

"Oh, you know. I'm all good, all around. Good vibes, good thoughts," I say, trying to relieve some of the tension with humor. Of course, Bruce wasn't having any of that.

"I heard everything, Dick," Bruce says seriously, straight to the point as usual. I sigh. Of course he did.

"Okay…" I responded slowly. I wasn't sure what to say. Just outright start talking? I'm going to let him make the first move.

"Why, Dick?" He asks. Of course the first question he asks is one I can't answer. I stay silent. He had looked away for a moment, but now he returns his piercing gaze back to me. Bruce sighs tiredly, before seeming to come to a decision.

"I-I realize now that this, is my fault," he says. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being so overprotective. I'm sorry for stressing you out with the constant nagging. I'm sorry for not trusting you to go on missions. I'm sorry for benching you for every patrol, and preventing you from avenging your parents deaths and keeping Gotham safe. I'm sorry for forcing you to think that you needed to prove yourself to me. I'm sorry that you had to run away to get me to realize my mistakes. I miss you, Dick, and I want you to come back home,"

I just sit in my cot, speechless. Bruce never apologizes. I've been wanting to hear these words for years, and here they are when I least expect them. I expected Bruce to be ashamed of me, to say that his Dick was stronger than this, that I wasn't his son. I was definitely not expecting apologies and Bruce insisting that my condition is his fault.

"Bruce…" I start. "How could this possibly be your fault?" He looked away, seeming to think over his answer.

"If I had not been so overprotective, and had let you grow and become your own person, you wouldn't have left," he says. That does sort of make sense. I wouldn't have left so soon if he had realized that I wasn't a kid anymore. I'd been Robin for seven or eight years by then, and I knew how to handle myself.

"Bruce, I still would have left at some point. I'm eighteen now, I would have probably been gone by now, finding my own place, making my own mark. But I'm also sorry, I should have tried harder to make you understand. I shouldn't have disappeared. I shouldn't have left," I apologize.

"Well. I'm sorry and you're sorry. Will you come back to the Manor?" Bruce asks. I think it over. I'm still eighteen and I like living on my own. I do everything I need myself, I pay my own rent and cook my own food. Then again, it would be nice to see Alfred again.

I've been living in the penthouse with Damian and Tim, so there's no Alfred. He stayed at the Manor to tend to it while Bruce is gone. I had to go to the Manor a lot, to use the Batcave. I did have some of the equipment at the penthouse, but the Batcave had most of the stuff that I needed. Tim's also been gone for some time, working with the Team while Dami and I train at the Manor and patrol Gotham. I've also been working with the Team, but I some how managed to find time to train Damian.

Damian has gone back to the Manor since Bruce has returned, but I went back to my apartment in Bludhaven. I've been living there since the months of the Invasion, but now as a favor to Kaldur, I've been helping train the Team.

"I might visit, Bruce. But I've got things to do, places to be. I have my own place, and I can take care of myself," I tell him. Bruce smiled.

"There's no doubt you're my son, Dick. Exactly like me. But I'll take what I can get," he says.

"Good," I respond. Being there part time is just enough for me. Bruce smiles at me, the special kind that I've never seen anywhere else. Suddenly I feel warm arms wrap around me. Bruce is hugging me.

I tense for a moment before relaxing. I'm not used to anyone hugging me, but this feels nice. I haven't been hugged in what seems like years. Bruce used to hug me all the time back in my Robin days. He was actually pretty affectionate and touchy for the Batman. I would go to him when I had a nightmare, and sleep in his bed the night. We would always end up cuddling in the middle of the night, not that either of us minded.

Now when I have nightmares I'm left awake the whole night, trying to recover from them. That was another thing I missed when I was away.

Now Bruce is hugging me, giving me the affection that I've craved all these years. We may not be what we used to be, but it'll take time to get there. I don't feel as horrible anymore. I actually feel safe in Bruce's arms. I really thought this would never happen again. But now that it has, I'm glad.

 **AN: I started writing this story in February, and I only just finished it. Whew. This one was stubborn. I usually like to make Dick suffer, but this time I was in a merciful mood. GOSH. This is SIXTEEN pages long in my docs! Review?**

 _ **EDIT: JESUS CHRIST. I looked over this story in Fanfiction, from a reader's view, and I realized how many mistakes there were! It would be really helpful if you guys could point out any mistakes you find, that would make it so much easier to find and correct them. I know that some of the ones that were previously in this story made it super confusing, but I tried my best to correct them. So review and tell me if you find any mistakes that I missed!**_


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